
And Other \ferses O 

G by Emily -D-Elton 


W£: 

y \*y7 ^^4 fg 

r w / jw 

/ \ 

/ / -/WK 

\ _/ /V^Krx^^~eJ 

\ / /liia \ \ A#pag; 

, \ / I X * v/fiiP Id "fT 

v » •$ f <' a jr%* *P Ju’ 

» X ^TkulLg. 

t *S 

•$ jf flHtP I’jUi 

WSfffl JwP 

v£4 i 

ig,. -*5^ vlj 

V ' j£ ^U,. / JMsmsg; 

1 \ jWM||jL C / 

^ jfliii td p Q tanatf tt;> ~ / -5utf' ^ j^nSpJujJ^ 



LIBRAR^ QF, QONG RESS, 

Chap....^ Copyright No... 

' ‘Shell 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 















■ 








































































































































■ 



























































































































































A MINCE PIE DREAM 









"i 






A MINCE PIE DREAM 
*• * * * * *• A book 

of Children’s Verse * * * By 
Emily D/Elton with pictures 
by * * * Blanche flcManus 




NEW YORK 

E. R. HERRICK & COflPANY 

70 FIFTH AVENUE 

7J- 








S' 


xN 


1092 


Copyright, 1897 
BY 

E. R. Herrick & Company 


A MINCE-PIE DREAM 


/^"ANE day I bought a large mince pie, 
“Fresh and good,” the baker said; 

Frank and I, we ate it all, 

That night before we went to bed. 

I slept and dreamed the queerest dream — 

I was under the midnight sky, 

Riding a horse with the speed of the wind, 
And it climbed the mountain high. 

We reached the top where the sky bent down 
And seemed to touch the mountain’s brow, 

We went right through to the other side, 

And couldn’t see why or how. 

Up and up we climbed to the dome 
Of the sky on the other side, 

I gasped and tried to speak to my steed 
Ere we took the downward ride. 

The man in the moon caught the bridle rein 
Of my plunging steed, and then 

I backward fell and downward rolled 
Till I fell to the earth again. 


5 





As I rolled on, the friction wore 
My head and limbs away, 

I was round as my marbles are, 

Or the ball I use in play. 

I bounded on from cliff to cliff, 

Now going fast, now slow; 

At last I struck the dear old home 
Down in the vale below. 

But what a shock ! The roof fell in, 
We all were crushed and dead, 

And I woke up and found that I 
Had fallen out of bed. 

My leg was broken, and Frank was ill, 
The doctor feared he would die, 

And all this misery and expense 
Came out of a big mince pie ! 


6 



“WHAT ARE WITCHES? 


I WONDER what are witches! 

1 Uncle Ned says I am one, 

He laughs so when he says it 
I think it's meant for fun; 

He says they ride the broom-stick, 
And they possess the cats, 

When they’re not at their business 
Hunting mice and rats. 

It makes them act like torment 
In their howling songs at night, 

It’s often that they wake me, 

And give me such a fright, 

I want to call to mamma, 

To help me go to sleep, 

And so I wish the witches 
The cats at home would keep. 


7 




THE WAKING OF THE FLOWERS 



GAIN the sweet spring time, 


J 7 * So joyous and gay, 

Has come with the garlands 
Of blossoming May. 

The hem of her garments 
Are 'broidered with blue, 

Of violets cradled 
In sunshine and dew. 

Her robes of fresh emerald, 
Beautifully bright, 

Are spangled with blossoms 
Of yellow and white; 
May-flowers sweet, 

And anemones fair, 

With trailing arbutus, 

She twines in her hair. 

Soft mosses, and lichens 
Of loveliest shade, 

And feathery ferns 
Are with flowers arrayed 
O’er bright robe and sandal, 
While gayly she weaves 
Sweet garlands of beauty, 

Of young buds and leaves. 


8 


PUSSY 


DUSSY cannot learn to read, 

* Pussy cannot spell, 

Pussy cannot learn to work 
And learn to do it well. 

All that Pussy thinks or knows 
Is meat and drink and sleep, 
Pussy sometimes cries aloud 
But pussy cannot weep. 

Pussy loves the sunshine warm, 
Pussy loves the fire, 

Pussy’s fur is all the clothes 
That Pussy need desire. 

Pussy moves with noiseless tread 
On softly cushioned feet, 

Pussy’s teeth and Pussy's claws 
Were made to kill and eat. 

Pussy does not think it wrong, 

For God has made her so, 

To catch the naughty rats and mice 
And never let them go. 


9 


MY OLDEST DOLLIE 


T HIS is my oldest dollie, 

I love her best of all, 

Though I have other dollies; 

Some big, some very small; 

But this I’ve had the longest, 

Years and years — almost a year; 
And that is why this dollie 
Always seems most dear. 

I wonder why she grows so old, 
Broken and faded too, 

While every time I have a bath 
I come out good as new. 

Once, when I tried to wash her face, 
Her lips and cheeks turned white, 
Her curly hair began to fall, 

She looked just like a fright. 

Then I used Hair Restorer, 

Our Joe said it was best 
To bring the hair out, and it did — 

It brought out all the rest. 

Her toes and fingers all are gone, 

Her nose is driven in, 

She's lost an eye, and sadly bruised 
Her forehead and her chin. 


10 

































I’ve had as many bumps as she, 

But they get well all right, 

I used to think the fairies came 
To mend me up at night; 

But mamma said it’s ’cause I live, 
Breathe, eat and sleep and play 
That I am healthy, sound and strong; 
So now I’ll dance away. 


1 1 


MAMMA’S LITTLE WOMAN 


I ’M Mamma’s little woman, 

And Papa’s little love, 

He sometimes calls me ‘‘darling,” 
And sometimes calls me “dove.” 

I help my dearest Mamma, 

I sweep and dust and sew. 

Make dresses for my dollies, 

Work while they sleep and grow. 

I scold them when they’re naughty, 

I teach them manners too, 

And often I’m so worried 
I don’t know what to do. 

They’re sometimes cross and sleepy, 
Then they begin to cry, 

I have to stop and rock them 
And sing their lullaby. 

Children are such a trouble, 

I’ve lived to find it so, 

But then I love my dollies, ' 

They knew it long ago. 


12 


NATIONAL SALUTATIONS 


T F round this great broad earth you sail, 

* Or you may go part way by rail, 
These are some of the salutations 
That you will hear from different nations. 

English, and Americans too, 

Say when meeting, “How do you do ?” 
Always doing — full of drive, 

They are every inch alive. 

The French on manners much stress lay, 
So with politeness they all say, 

“How do you carry yourself?” and bow 
Gracefully as I do now. 

“ How goes it?” is the salutation 
Used by Germans as a nation; 

No English push nor French-like grace 
Marks this sturdy, thrifty race. 

When Netherlanders chance to meet, 
“How do you sail?” you hear them greet, 
Which shows they navigate the seas 
And on the waters feel at ease. 


3 


“How do you stand?” the Spaniards say, 

And it reminds us of the day 

When Spain held power and wide control, 

And fettered the body as well as the soul. 

“ Have you eaten your rice to-day?” 

In China it always seems to say 
If so, you’re well, and well supplied, 

And ought to be happy and satisfied. 

Not only in greeting should we all be 
Courteous always, and always see 
That our manners are perfect, the best we can show, 
At home and abroad, wherever we go. 


M 


BEAN BAGS 


S EE our bean bags, how they fly, 
Here and there, here and there, 
Like the swallows in the sky, 
Everywhere, everywhere; 

Now they fly like autumn leaves, 
Round and round, 

Catch them quickly lest they fall 
To the ground. 

Now they’re flying to the North 
Where the snow 
Always lies upon the ground, 

See them go ! 

Back they come again in haste, 

And we know 

To the South so warm and bright 
They will go. 

To the zenith over head 
Up so high, 

Like the eagle see them go 
To the sky ! 

Now they’re coming down again, 
One and all, 

Toward the nadir ’neath our feet, 
See them fall ! 

We will pick them up again. 

March away, 

For the game is over now 
For the day. 


15 


CHESTNUT BURRS 


S OME folks are just like chestnut burrs. 
Nothin’ but prickles, 

An’ some are sour through an’ through, 
Like well-made pickles. 

Some are coarse an’ rough an’ cold 
As granite mountains, 

An’ some are good as music sweet 
Of summer fountains. 

Some are like soft tabby cats, 

Most always purrin’, 

While treachery lies underneath, 

Alive an’ stirrin’. 

Some are made of only froth, 

Foamin’ and fussin’, 

An’ all they undertake to do 
Is only mussin’. 

An’ some are made of only tongue, 
Always a-waggin’, 

An’ used to other people’s hurt, 

Or else in braggin’. 


16 


THE TWELVE MONTHS OF THE YEAR 

Twelve children, each one to recite a verse and leave the platform. 

T ANUARY freezing cold, 

More of cloud than sun, 

We can stand it since we know 
It’s how the new years come. 

February’s frost and snow 
Tries us sometimes too, 

But the month is short at best 
And soon is blustered through. 

March is raw, with sleet and thaw, 
Freezing, sneeze and blow, 

Fierce and howling gales of wind 
And flurrying storms of snow. 

April, fair and fickle too, 

Comes with hurrying feet ; 

Frosts at night so often bite 
The buds and blossoms sweet. 

Lovely May will have her way, 

With her wealth of flowers, 

Birds and song the whole day long 
Fill all the happy hours. 

Royal June, of richest bloom, 

Month of roses fair, 

Brighten the eyes with glad surprise, 

While fragrance fills the air. 


*7 


July comes in, with heat and din 
Of Independence Day; 

Through the grain on hill and plain 
The reaper speeds its way. 

August next, though greatly vexed 
With sultry heat and flies, 

And thunder showers, with less of flowers, 
To gladden hearts and eyes. 

September sweet, with hurrying feet, 

Rich fruit and gayest flowers, 

Comes like a queen, calm and serene, 
Gladdening this world of ours. 

October’s sway is grand and gay, 

Most regal to behold ; 

Forests and trees sway to the breeze 
In crimson, bronze and gold. 

November rude, with sullen mood, 

Casts beauty all aside; 

Birds, bees and flowers leave all the bowers 
That were their summer’s pride. 

December last, with staring blasts 
Of Winter’s frosty breath, 

Brings Christmas time, whose joy-bells chime 
Near to the old year’s death. 


18 




COUNT WELL THE COST 


A CAT was walking by a stream 
When down she chanced to look 

And saw a pretty speckled trout 
Swimming in the brook. 

“ Oh, what a dinner it will make! ” 
She said, while from her eyes 

The fire flashed, and the purring puss 
Threw off her soft disguise. 

The tiger nature showed itself, 

She licked her greedy jaws, 

And savage nails worked in and out 
On her retractile claws. 

She lashed her tail from side to side, 
She crouched and gave a spring, 

Alas! the water swallowed up 
The poor deluded thing. 

The moral is: Count well the cost, 
Nor leap before you look; 

Better live without the fish 
Than die within the brook. 


r 9 


SELFISHNESS 


S elfishness affects the brain 

In some mysterious way; 

It dries it up, in spite of all 
That books or doctors say; 

It shrinks it so it cannot hold 
A kind or noble thought, 

And soon it gets too weak to think 
Of anything it ought. 

Selfishness affects the heart 
And makes it mean and small, 

So much so that it seems no use 
To have a heart at all ; 

It feels no other rights or needs 
Except for self alone, 

Which makes it seem as hard and cold 
And worthless as a stone. 

Selfishness affects the eyes 
With sight too short to see 
Further than self, and caring not 
For either you or me, 

Or any one, or anything, 

Except for selfish ease, 

And selfish pleasure, selfish greed, 

And only self to please. 


20 


JUNE 


OOSY June has come at last, 

* ' Fairest, sweetest 
Of the twelve months of the year, 
And the fleetest. 

Like a child with apron full 
Of buds and posies, 

At summer’s open gate she stands, 
Scattering roses. 

From her crowded hand she drops 
All the daisies, 

Clover blooms and butter-cups, 
Winning praises 

For her wondrous loveliness 
And her sweetness, 

Filling all the balmy air 
To completeness. 


21 


Each step she advances, 
There springs ’neath her feet 
Such myriads of flowers 
So wondrously sweet, 

That earth seems an Eden 
Too fair and too bright, 

To know of decay, 

Or of mildew or blight. 


22 


OUR BABY 


u I_f OW long is Baby going to stay?” 

* * I said to Mamma the other day ; 
“She’s been here now a week, I know, 
Isn’t it time that Baby should go ? 

“That is the way our company do, 
Grandma, Auntie and Cousin Sue; 

When we ask them they will not stay, 

But visit a while, then go away.” 

Mamma spoke softly and very low, 

“God grant our angel may never go ! ” 
Papa laughed loudly when I said, 

“Angels are very small and red.” 

I’m kept from Mamma all the day, 

And nurse won’t let me have my play, 

I have to walk on my tip-toe, 

And cannot on my trumpet blow. 

Even when hobby horse runs away 
And throws me off, as he did to-day, 

And Papa don’t stop to play with me, 

But comes in here the baby to see. 

“He worries Mamma,” the nurse then said, 
And all alone she sent me to bed ; 

And when I cried she said she could see 
A great big giant coming for me; 


23 


And he’d come in the dark and take me away, 
And no one would care, since Baby would stay ; 
She’d put her finger up so and point, 

And say that my nose was out of joint. 

Then softly I crept to Mamma’s bed, 

And told her what the nurse had said; 

You ought to have all been there to see 
How much my Mamma thinks of me ! 

And now it’s all right, our Baby can stay; 

She has not stolen my Mamma away, 

But has come to love us and always be 
A dear little darling sister to me. 


24 


MRS. DUCK 


Q UACK, the Duck says, 

Quack, quack, quack ! 

From the brook she’s coming back, 
She will rest a while and then 
She will surely go again. 

Slugs and snails she finds to eat, 
They are what she has for meat; 
She can swim and work as well, 
How she does it — can you tell? 


25 


‘BOYS MAKE MEN 


“ DOYS make men,” so a little one said, 

E-J Which is certainly true if they go straight 
ahead, 

But when they turn off to the side path of sin, 
Where laziness, lying and stealing begin, 

They still may grow up, but manhood is lost, 

And this they will learn to their sorrow and cost; 
The world will despise them for what they are 
then, 

Poor worthless creatures who might have been 
men. 

The boys who make men are truthful and true, 
Earnest and honest in all that they do, 

Ready and willing, and quick to obey 
All orders and duties that come in their way ; 
They’re careful and helpful, and earnest to see 
What wrongs they can right, and what help they 
can be — 

Such boys the world loves, feeling positive then 
That when they grow up they will surely be men. 


26 


A HOBBY HORSE 


T HAVE a good, smart hobby horse, 
* A pretty dapple gray, 

I ride him till it seems to me 
He tries to run away; 

But I can ride him just as fast 
As hobby horse can go, 

Away to town and everywhere, 

In spite of rain or snow. 

And when I go to Grandma’s house 
He gallops faster still ; 

I do not have to use the whip, 

Not even up the hill; 

We go so fast we cannot stop 
Till we're at Grandma’s door, 

And I call out “Hello! ” and give 
Her kisses three or four. 

She smiles and calls me “little man,” 
And such nice words to hear, 

And tells me I must “be a good 
And precious little dear;” 

And I say “Yes,” because I mean 
To do just what is right; 

And then I gallop home again 
Before it’s dark or night. 


2 7 


GREEDY SAM 

REEDY Sam 



Was like a clam, 


His mouth was all for eating; 

He was very lazy, too, 

And very fond of sleeping; 

His stupid head 
Was long in bed, 

And he was cross and surly — 
He did not act at all like those 
Who’re smart and get up early. 


A GOOD MORNING 

S TANDING on the rail fence 
Was cock-a-doodle-doo, 


Saying in a noisy way: 

“Good morning, folks, to you! 

Why aren’t the children out of bed, 
Stirring round alive ? 

If they must stay shut up like this 
They surely cannot thrive. 

“ I’ve spoken often in the night, 
That all was right with me ; 

It is a little exercise 
That’s healthful, don’t you see ? 

I do not get much credit for 
My noisy music, it is true, 

But still I’ll say in cheerful tones 
Cock-a-doodle, doodle-doo!” 


28 







MISS RICKETYROCKET 


I HAVE in my pocket Miss Rickety rocket, 

1 The wickedest dolly of all; 

She’s broken her nose and spoiled all her clothes, 
And never will come when I call. 

She’s broken her arm, it came of the harm 
Of being so naughty and bad ; 

She’s stubbed off her toes the same as her nose, 
And made me feel troubled and sad. 

Her eyes were all right till she got in a fight 
With Cretia und Susie and Lou, 

But now she looks mean, not fit to be seen — 

That makes me feel dreadfully, too. 

I’ve scolded a sight but she never looks right, 

No matter how nicely she’s dressed; 

She’s bad through and through — whatever I do 
It never turns out for the best. 

So Ricketyrocket must go in my pocket, 

I’ll carry her there out of sight; 

While to each and to all, the big and the small, 

I bow with a pleasant good-night. 


29 


A PLACE FOR THE CHILDREN 


PARENTS and teachers, here we come, 
1 Give us room in heart and home; 
We are sent — we have no voice 
In this matter, and no choice. 

We do not know how we shall fare 
In this world of toil and care, 

Or how long we each shall stay 
Ere from earth we pass away. 


Do you wonder what we’ll be 
When grown up ? Now let us see 
If we can tell, so you will know 
How to train us while we grow. 


Plant an acorn and you’ll see 
An oak, and not an apple-tree ; 

With seed and soil and rain and dew, 
Each to its nature will be true. 

But children grow as they are bent 
To be a tramp or President, 

Priest or preacher, dunce or knave, 

A noble man or cringing slave. 


30 


“An honest man, God’s noblest work,” 
Stands high above a worthless shirk ; 
Fiend or saint, small power have we 
To tell what each of us may be. 

We the clay — the potter’s skill 
Lies with you, and as you will 
You can mould us, day by day; 

So it’s left for you to say 

Whether you will mar or make — 
Whether you will bend or break — 

All our future life will tell 
Whether you wrought ill or well. 


3i 


THE SPIDER’S LESSON 


“T TGH! You ugly spider, hid in the grass, 
LJ Your net is spread where I must pass, 
I’d stamp on it with all my might 
If I did not fear your horrid bite.” 

“Well, little girl, I’m frightened, too, 

But hope no harm will come to you ; 

And there are lessons you can learn 
From the lowly life you seem to spurn.” 

“ Learn of an insect? No, indeed! 

You cannot write, nor even read; 

A sorry teacher you would be — 

You never could teach a girl like me.” 

“I’m not an insect, as you might know. 

For on six legs they always go; 

I have eight, a crustacean you see, 

I belong to the family Arachnidae. 

“I have no beauty, song nor wings, 

Yet I may dwell in the palace of kings, 
Although I always use my hands, 

And weave my web in shining bands. 

“O, my web, my beautiful web! 

Finer by far than the hair of your head; 

It gives me a home, a place to sleep, 

And a table spread with choicest meat. 


32 


‘ ‘ I can make a swing from the highest trees, 
And build a bridge with the greatest ease. 

I may not write a letter so fine, 

But I never fail to drop a line. 

“And what is more, I’m weather-wise, 

And ought to be, for I have eight eyes; 
Although a storm I do not fear, 

I always can tell when it is near. 

“If in the morning you chance to pass 
And see my web in the dewy grass, 

If closely woven and anchored strong 
The pleasant weather will tarry long. 

“If slackly woven, or not at all, 

It shows ere long the rain will fall; 

In some things now you surely see 
I’m wiser than a girl can be.” 

“Yes, Mr. Spider, though so small, 

You’ve taught me a lesson after all; 

And never again will I despise 

What God has made — He’s good and wise.” 


33 


“A BEE IN MY BONNET' 


RANDMAMMA thinks there’s a bee in my 



bonnet ; 

I’ve searched it inside, all through and upon it, 
But nothing is there to sting or distress; 

So this is her meaning, I think, or I guess — 
That I’m giddy-headed and fidgety, too; 

So I will look after it, now — wouldn’t you i 
And not be too thoughtless or careless to see 
What conduct or actions are proper for me. 


BLUE BIRD 


B LUE bird pretty, 

Blue bird bright, 

Singing sweet from morn till night, 
Telling us that winter snow 
And winter winds will have to go 
And hide away from summer time 
In a colder, bleaker clime, 

Till November’s frosty breath 
Freezes all the flowers to death. 


34 


OUR CAT 


B etty bright 

Was in a fight — 
She was our cat, you know ; 
She died, she did, 

And she was hid 
Under the snow. 

When it was said 
That she was dead 
Old Towser didn’t care; 

He hated cats 
And hated rats, 

And warned them to beware. 


35 


ARBOR DAY 


'T^IS Arbor Day! ’Tis Arbor Day! 

1 We leave our school, but not for play, 
And not to seek our selfish ease, 

Nor do as each of us may please. 

Where’er we go we always see 
Others have worked, and why not we ? 
They’ve cleared the land and roads have made, 
And planted trees for fruit and shade. 

And now we come to do our part 
With willing hand and cheerful heart; 

By planting trees, we too will tr}^ 

The earth to bless and beautify. 

Of trees for fruit and pleasant shade 
Now let the choice be quickly made; 

We’ve made our choice — we all agree 
To plant for shade a maple tree. 

'Tis quick of growth and straight of form, 
And does not yield to blight or storm. 

Its wealth of scarlet bloom ’twill bring 
To greet the opening of the spring; 

Its gorgeous leaves in autumn hours 
Will be as brilliant as the flowers. 

And we will plant an elm, of course; 

We might go further and do worse. 

Its pendent branches, slender leaves, 

Are swayed by every passing breeze. 


36 





We now another choice have made, 

A tree for fruit as well as shade — 

The chestnut. ’Tis a stately tree, 

And it may last a century. 

Another choice is ours, at length, 

A tree for shade as well as strength. 

The monarch oak, the forest’s pride, 

Will spread its branches far and wide; 

It fears no storms or tempest’s wrath, 

It bids defiance to the blast; 

Many great ships that sail the seas 
Are made of oaks once small as these. 

The willow tree is now our choice, 

There is not one dissenting voice; 

Aught as beautiful as this 
We’d be very loth to miss; 

The first to show its tender green 
When the least hint of spring is seen, 

The last to yield to autumn’s sway 
Its slender leaves to swift decay. 

The mountain ash is not surpassed 
For beauty that is sure to last; 

This we must plant, its berries bright 
Are such a cheering, gladdening sight; 
When flowers are scarce they still are there, 
Without incessant, watchful care; 

In clusters gay they fear no ill, 

In spite of storms they flourish still. 


37 


MY PET NAMES 


I ’M Mamma’s darling, five years old, 

She says I’m “worth my weight in gold;” 
My Papa says his little pet 
“Will make a noble woman yet.” 

Grandma often thinks I’m wild, 

Yet always calls me “precious child;” 

But Brother calls me “bitter-sweet,” 

Not worth the bread and salt I eat ; 

Sister calls me “little midget,” 

’Cause I’m in a dreadful fidget; 

Auntie often says she fears 
“This little pitcher has big ears;” 

Uncle John and Cousin Ned 
Always call me “rattle-head;” 

Since I’ve told my pet names, now 
I’ll try to make a graceful bow. 


38 


THE SNAIL AND THE ANT 


A SNAIL saw an ant running forward and back. 
“What’s the matter,” said he; “have you 
lost your track?” 

“I’m trying to find it, so I can get home; 

I did not intend so far to roam.” 

“Get home!” said the snail; “I’m thinking instead 
You must be getting clear out of your head.” 

“O no!” cried the ant, “my head is quite straight, 
But I’m in a hurry, it’s getting so late; 

Home, home, sweet home! I never have found 
A place half so sweet as my home underground.” 

“If you love it so well, why don’t you stay? 

I love mine too well to wander away, 

I always keep house, and my house keeps me, 

I would not exchange with an ant or a bee; 

When night comes on, I pull in each eye, 

My horns and my head, and snugly I lie 
Safe in my house with my feet for a door; 

I have but one foot, 1 could not use more.” 

“It is strange,” said the ant, “it may be all right, 
But I must go now, and bid you good night, 

And early to-morrow this way I will take, 

And rap on your door and bid you awake.” 


39 


PUSSY’S LETTER 



EAR children, here is a picture of me, 


^ My royal name is Felidae, 

A royal family; I always said 

That cats should stand at the very head. 

Leo thinks — (he’s my cousin, you see,) 
That he is very much better than we; 

The fact that he is the kingliest beast 
Makes him count us among the least. 

Leopardus with his spots so fine, 

And Tigris both are cousins of mine, 
Puma and Chetah, and many more, 

I think at least there are half a score. 

They are all larger and stronger than we, 
Yet in many points we all agree: 

Agile and lithe, we spring on our prey, 
And we all are treacherous, people say. 

Our teeth are sharp, and our savage claws 
Are closely sheathed in velvet paws, 

We like to sleep when the sun is bright 
And do our hunting in the night. 


40 


Unlike the rest, I am well content 
To eat the crumbs from the table sent, 
The bits of bread, and the scraps of meat, 
And many things quite nice to eat. 

And now or then a rat or mouse 
That I can find about the house 
Come good to feed my kittens too, 

And that is work I like to do. 

I hear them now, so drop my pen 
Hoping to write to you again, 

But I must run to save a fuss. 

Yours truly, Felix Domesticus. 


4i 


THE FIVE GREAT NEEDS OF LIFE 



E all have learned of life’s great needs, 


v v And very well we know 
Unless these needs are fully met 
We cannot live and grow. 

First. 

The first is breathing — God alone 
Can give us life and breath, 

And if the air should be withheld 
We all would sink in death. 

So our first study is to see 
That pure air is supplied 
To us wherever we may go, 
Wherever we abide. 

Second. 

The next great need of life is food; 
And so we all are led 
To clasp our hands, look up and pray 
Give us our daily bread! 

Third. 

The third great need of life is drink; 
For this, the water’s given, 

Pure and sparkling from the spring, 
The brook, and clouds of heaven. 


42 


Fourth. 

The next great need is exercise; 

So we must work and play. 

Put energy in all we do, 

And do it every day. 

Fifth . 

The last great need of life is sleep; 

Body and mind must rest, 

For this, to lie straight on the bed 
Is always deemed the best. 

So when the day ends, and its needs, 
And evening’s shadows creep, 

We’re taught to pray that God will keep 
Us safely while we sleep. 


43 


THE RIGHT THING TO DO 

T HE right thing to do 

We are learning each day, 

How to act, how to work, 

And just what to say; 

How to read, how to write, 

And be good and polite, 

And to keep out of mischief 
And out of a fight, 

And shun many evils 
That look bad and mean, 

And to do nothing wrong 
Even when we’re not seen; 

These are the steps to manhood and right — 
There are many more, but I’ll bid you good-night. 


44 


THE RAIN STORM 


| ISTEN! listen! Hear the rain 
^ Coming over hill and plain! 
Now it strikes the forest wide, 
Rushing like a mighty tide. 

See the tall trees bow and sway, 
Toss their branches every way — 
Forward, backward, up and down, 
Then they circle round and round. 

Nearer, nearer comes the rain, 
Bending low the fields of grain, 
Patting daisies on the cheek, 
While they play at hide and seek. 

Now the rain is here at last, 

Drops are falling thick and fast; 
See the tossing of the vines! 

Hear the slamming of the blinds! 

Listen! listen! ’Tis the rain 
Tapping on the window pane — 
Tapping loud and tapping low — 
See the raindrops come and go! 

Patter, patter on the roof, 

Hear each tiny little hoof! 

From the ridge-pole, either way, 
How they scamper in their play! 


45 


Down the eaves and in a twinkle, 
Hear their merry tinkle, tinkle! 
Oh, to us ’tis very plain 
There is music in the rain! 


A LITTLE MOUSE 

A PRETTY little black-eyed mouse 
Game to live at our house; 

It ate the cake and nibbled the cheese, 
Did all such naughty things as these, 
Until our great big pussy cat 
Soon put a stop to all of that. 


46 


THE STORY OF THE BREAD 


The Woodman. 

I AM a woodman. With my axe 
* I lay the tall trees low, 

Where they are standing thick to-day 
Next year the grain will grow; 

The birds that here have built their nests, 
The quail and partridge shy, 

Must, like the squirrel, find a home 
In forest land near by. 


The Farmer. 

I am a farmer. I plow and sow, 

And harrow well the field; 

The ground so new and rich, I’m sure, 
Full sixty-fold will yield. 

With joy I’ll reap the hill and plain, 
And bind and stack the sheaves, 
Then to the mill I’ll take my grain 
When fall the autumn leaves. 


The Miller. 

I am a miller. All day long 
I’ll take the corn and wheat and rye, 
I’ll grind them into flour and meal, 
And keep one-tenth for pay. 


47 


The dimpling brook with gurgling song 
Will turn the wheel for me, 

With drip and splash and froth and foam 
To show its merry glee. 


The Baker. 

I am a baker. I will take 
The fresh, sweet flour and foaming yeast, 
Add water and a little salt, 

Knead, make in loaves and bake; 

Then from the oven, crisp and brown, 
And fragrant every one, 

I’ll place them on the shelf to cool, 

And then my work is done. 

Woodman and farmer brave and strong, 
Miller and baker too, 

For all your useful services 
Our hearty thanks are due. 

But hold! Here come the people, all 
In need of flour or bread, 

For by your labor great and small 
Must every day be fed. 

From mother earth much labor brings 
Vast stores of needful good, 

So let us ever bear in mind 
Whence comes our daily food, 


48 








Blessed, as it must be, by the Hand 
That fashioned this great earth, 

And gave the sunshine, rain and dew 
Their wondrous power and worth. 

Without them famine, gaunt and grim, 
Would stalk through all the land, 

And cheeks grow pale and eyes grow dim, 
With death on every hand; 

So let us all give daily thanks 
For God’s great love and care, 

For human skill and heavenly aid 
Bless Him in praise and prayer. 


49 


TOM 


LI ELLO! There’s Tom! He’s a comical dog, 
1 1 Sitting down there like a toad on a log, 
Thinking and blinking, as toads always do, 

But never of evil — he’s honest clear through; 
Not an apple nor marble nor even a string 
Will he take, so he’s splendid to carry and bring 
Whatever he’s sent for, little or much — 

There’s never a look, a taste or a touch. 


Tom is a hunter of very small game — 

Bugs, crickets and grasshoppers — making them 
tame; 

Frogs, toads and turtles, and pollywogs too, 

He knows where they live, and just what they all 
do. 

The birds and their nests, the beautiful things, 

He loves their glad songs and the whirr of their 
wings ; 

He never disturbs them, he likes them too well ; 

All this, and much more, I could truthfully tell. 


Homely? Well, yes, but that is not bad, 

He's the boy that will make a mother’s heart 
glad; 

He digs into lessons, and works just the same; 

And when it is play, he’s the boy for a game — 


50 


No cheating in him, he is square through and 
through ; 

When favors are asked, he is ready to do 
Whatever is needed, wasting no time 
To grumble or growl, or put in a whine. 

Gome up here, old fellow! Stand close by my side, 
I’ve nuts in my pocket and cakes to divide; 

Like chickens we’ve picked from the same things 
before, 

And given to others from out our small store ; 

No bragging in this, all know it so well 
We never need have it to preach or to tell. 

We will go and hunt lively for lame little Dick, 
Scamper now, Tom. Away, and be quick! 


5i 


GOOD LUCK 


G OOD luck never comes 
Where idleness waits, 
That is a thing 
It honestly hates; 
Horseshoes won’t bring it, 
Nor charms make it stay, 
When time is all spent 
In folly and play. 

Be frugal and diligent 
If you would thrive, 

Learn of the ant 
And the bees of the hive; 
Work while the day lasts, 
Work with your might, 
Moments are precious, 

So use them aright. 

Leave not till to-morrow 
The work of to-day, 
Sorrow and loss 
Oft come of delay; 

4 ‘Gather the fragments,” 
The Father has said, 

Heed his command 
And have plenty of bread. 


52 


Let nothing be lost, 

But gather up all, 

Then open your heart 
To humanity’s call; 
Heed the good proverbs 
With diligent care, 

To save you from want 
And from many a snare. 


A LITTLE PICKANINNY 

I ’SE a little pickaninny, 

* An’ if I’se nuffin much, 
Dars some One way up yonder 
Dats allers cares for such, 

De same as fur white chilluns, 
An’ so I’se goin’ ter be 
So good dat He kin lub me — 
Ask Mammy an’ you’ll see. 


53 


TAKE A TOON, PIGGIE! 


[ ITTLE Seymour, one bright spring mom, 

' Went with the men folks planting corn, 
With his hands he deftly worked the mold 
And covered the kernels bright as gold. 

No thought of cutworms, crows or weeds 
Marred his hopes of the planted seeds, 

He was sure that a crop would grow 
Of popcorn, white as the winter’s snow. 

Weary at last, he ran to see 
A squirrel climb up a chestnut tree; 

He chased a mole with his bead-like eyes 
That sank in the ground, to his great surprise. 

He heard the oriole and the bees 
'Mid the tinted bloom of the apple-trees; 

Of the fallen petals he tasted and felt 
To see if like snow they would quickly melt. 

By the brook he gathered the violets blue 
And set them afloat in his little shoe, 

His stocking a sail, a stick for a mast, 

Quickly it slid from his tiny grasp. 

Then a mother hen came down to drink, 

When all at once he chanced to think 
Chickens as well as ducks could swim, 

So he caught up one and threw it in. 


54 


The chicken screamed, the hen showed fight, 

He ran for home with all his might; 

Bonnetless, shoeless, tattered and wet, 

The mother received her darling pet. 

He left her with face and hands so sweet, 

And now they were black as a turkey’s feet; 
While she washed them she prayed that they 
Might never know deeper stains than clay. 

When dressed anew from foot to head, 

She gave him a lunch of milk and bread; 

In the shade he sat enjoying his meal 
When a pig came up with a grunt and squeal. 

Rudely he thrust in the dish his head, 

“Take a ’poon, piggie,” the little one said, 

He held out the spoon, quite willing to share 
In a mannerly way, but pig did not care 

For manners or morals, for wrong or right, 

He knew no law but the law of might; 
Thrusting aside the child and the spoon, 

Head and foot in the dish, he emptied it soon. 

In the years since Seymour was chased by the hen 
He has learned that with pigs as well as with men 
’Tis better to claim one’s lawful right 
Than weakly to yield to lawless might. 


55 


PUSSY CAT 


DUSSY cat is plump and fat, 

*■ She loves to play and run, 

She can jump and she can climb 
And have a sight of fun; 

Her pretty paws have cruel claws, 
Her teeth are sharp and white, 

And when she catches mice and rats 
She knows just how to bite. 


HOW DO YOU DO? 

“ LJ OW do you do ?” I do as I’m taught, 
A A And mind my business as I ought; 

I braid my hair, just as you see, 

And make it nice as it can be; 

I wash the dishes, sweep the floor, 

And keep it neat around the door; 

Do other things that I might tell, 

And Mamma says I do them well. 


56 


J0S1E AND I 


T OSIE and I, whatever befall, 

^ Agree to be patient and laugh through it all ; 

It always is better to laugh than to cry, 

We think so, we do — Josie and I; 

Joe laughs and I laugh, then we both laugh to- 
gether, 

For a laugh, like a rainbow, foretells pleasant 
weather. 

If we stoop for our ball and our heads crash to- 
gether, 

And we see many stars, and do not know whether 
To laugh or to cry, to strike or to kiss, 

We wipe off the tears and always do this: 

Joe laughs and I laugh, and we both laugh to- 
gether, 

For a laugh, like a rainbow, foretells pleasant 
weather. 

If, when something we want, dear father says, “No, ” 
Or, “Boys, ask your mother,” and we get her veto, 
We do not look sullen, nor think were abused, 

Or have a hard time because they refuse; 

Joe laughs and I laugh, and we both laugh to- 
gether, 

For a laugh, like a rainbow, foretells pleasant 
weather. 


57 


If we plan an excursion or a play out of doors, 

And wake in the morning and find the rain pours, 
We don’t mope around and grumble and fret, 

But the cause of discomfort we quickly forget; 

Joe laughs and I laugh, and we both laugh to- 
gether, 

For a laugh, like a rainbow, foretells pleasant 
weather. 

If you who have listened have had a good time, 
And were charmed with our reason and pleased 
with our rhyme, 

Come join in our laugh, let the chorus swell high, 
With our hands on our sides, let us laugh till we 
cry — 

You laugh, and we laugh — once more, all together, 
I think after this we shall have pleasant weather. 







FLOWERS 


C LOWERS — oh, the flowers! 

* That bloom ’neath genial skies, 
Their fragrance on the balmy air 
Like grateful incense rise, 

Lavishing their sweetness 
O’er this broad earth of ours; 

How drear and cheerless it would seem 
If God withheld the flowers. 


Wondrously beautiful are they, 

Fresh from His loving hand, 
Blooming in fields and forests 
In every clime and land; 

A lavish feast of beauty 
By loving kindness sowed 
O’er hill-top, mountain, vale and dell, 
And by the dusty road. 

They lift their bright, sweet faces 
To us and to the skies, 

As if to smile a greeting 

With their lovely, starry eyes, 

And nod their heads so gracefully 
As soft winds o’er them sigh, 

While tossing fragrant kisses 
To every passer-by. 


59 


What wondrous skill is there displayed 
In varied form and shade, 

So fair and richly painted, 

In rare perfection made, 

To ornament and beautify 
This sorrowing world of ours, 

And show the workmanship and care 
Of God, who made the flowers. 


Reminders of lost Paradise, 

Like love and music sweet, 

Without them earth would be most drear 
And heaven seem incomplete; 

We feast upon their loveliness, 

So frail and fair to see, 

And read the lesson that they teach 
Of our mortality. 


60 


CONSIDER THE LILIES” 


/^ONSIDER the lilies, how they grow, 
^ He who made them alone can know 
By what alchemic art they take 
The ooze and slime, and beauty make — 
Beauty and fragrance — sweet and fair, 
But with no thought of toil or care; 

From web of earth and woof of light 
They weave their robes of gold and white. 


And so may we from grief and gloom 
Weave heart-robes white as lilies’ bloom, 
From toil and strife and earthly ill 
Life’s chalice with rich fragrance fill, 
Each stony pillow and trial given 
May be a stepping-stone to heaven — 

A ladder by which we mount to God 
May rest upon earth’s lowly sod. 

Since the magic power of prayer can span 
The space ’twixt God and helpless man, 
No cause have we for craven fear, 

His unseen hosts are ever near; 

The flowers, the grass, the birds of air 
Teach us the lesson of His care, 

For if He meets their lowly need, 

Will He not then His children feed? 


61 


HIGHLAND LADDIE 

(Highland costumes, and a pleasing air of self-respect.) 

I AM here, that is clear, 

Highland laddie strong, 

Did ye think o’ heather hills 
When I came along ? 

Did ye hear the bag-piper play 
Songs of Burns and Scott ? 

Did ye think of oaten cakes, 

Good and piping hot? 

Scotland’s air and simple fare 
Make the laddies grow 
Strong to bear the storm and cold 
And the winter snow. 

Do you see my shepherd’s crook? 
David, who was king, 

Had one when he watched the sheep 
And learned to use the sling. 

When the sheep are fast asleep, 

In the fold at rest, 

Then the oat-cakes and the milk 
Always taste the best. 

Water bright, as the light, 

Is the drink I love, 

Given by the tender hand 
Of the God above. 


62 


Do you know how fast I grow ? 

I soon will be a man, 

I must hurry and must learn 
All the good I can : 

I dinna care how bright and fair 
The path of wrong may be, 
Right is right, and that is what 
The world expects of me. 


63 


MY OWN PROPERTY 


J_J IPPITY-HOP— I have a new top, 

* * I spin it, and caper and play, 

Now here and now there, 

Though I have a care 
To try to keep out of the way. 

I’ve a kite and a ball, but that isn’t all, 

A pocket of marbles and things, 

Nails, buttons and bones, 

And pebbles and stones, 

A whistle and plenty of strings. 

I’m glad I can tell I have money as well, 

A nickel, three cents and a dime, 

All safe as can be, 

I earned it, you see, 

And so I shall spend it in time. 

I’ll have a good care that Mamma shall share 
In what I am going to buy, 

And Lilly and Lou, 

I’ll think of them too, 

And not spend it all on big I. 


64 


THE BEAUTIFUL DAISIES 

(For a class of little children, with wreaths and sashes of paper 
daisies, if natural daisies are not accessible.) 

\ \ / E are the daisies, pure and fair, 

^ * That bloom in the summer everywhere, 
In the meadow, on the hill, 

In the valley, down by the rill; 

Always where the sun shines bright 
The daisies gleam in gold and white. 

When the gentle breezes blow 
They rock the daisies to and fro, 

Sleepily, dreamily, see them sway 
Hither and thither, every way! 

To drone of bees a rhythm they keep, 

Until they both are rocked to sleep. 

When the pattering raindrops fall, 

They nod their heads like this, then all 

Toss the spray from their fringe of white, 
Lift their faces fair and bright, 

Saying, “The sun will shine again, 

And we’ll be better for the rain.” 

Sometimes fearful tempests blow 
And hurl the rocks to the vale below, 

The lightning shivers the giant oak, 

But the daisies bend beneath the stroke — 
Bent, not broken by the blast, 

They calmly wait till the storm is past. 


65 


When winter comes with frost and snow 
Down in the earth the daisies go, 

Making no moan or wild lament, 
Calmly taking whatever is sent, 

Sleep in the earth till the robins sing, 
Then wake to welcome the coming spring. 

Only make-believe daisies are we, 

Yet like the daisies we would be 

Always pure and clean and bright, 
Always looking to the light, 

For God who clothes the flowers so fair 
Will for His own dear children care. 


COCK A DOODLE DOO 

/^OCK-A-DOODLE, doodle-doo, 

Is what the rooster says to you, 
Upon a pole he goes to bed, 

Under his wing he tucks his head 
And sleeps a little while, and then 
He crows and crows and crows again. 


66 


OUR HANDS 


(Little hands are lifted and arched over the head.) 

CEE our hands, we stretch them high, 
^ Hold them like the arching sky ; 
Wonderful hands are these of ours, 
Who can tell their hidden powers? 

Who can tell the good they’ll do 
If hearts beneath are pure and true, 
Trained with patient care and skill 
To do the good the heart way will? 

These fingers made of joints and bone, 
Flesh, skin and nails are all our own ; 
We can move them as we please — 
Open and shut with perfect ease. 

There are no fairies now-a-day 
To help us in our work or play; 

We will not wait or wish for them, 
Fairy servants we have ten. 

Rich and poor all have the same, 

The best of service each can claim; 
With all our fingers trained with care 
For life’s duties we prepare. 


67 


Then whate’er they find to do 
They will be trusty, faithful, true; 
And when the work is just and right 
The hands will do it with their might. 

We will begin this very day 
And skill them by our work ana play 
In honest service, though it’s small, 
Kind to each other and to all. 


68 


CHILD’S TIMETABLE 


r T''ICK, tick, tock, 

Hear the busy clock ! 

Shall I tell you what it’s saying 
While I’m working, while I’m playing? 


Tick, tock, tick, 

The seconds fly so, quick! 

You may count them, now begin it — 
Sixty seconds make a minute. 


Tick, tock, tick, 

Hurry, hurry, quick! 

If an hour you would make 
Sixty seconds you must take. 


Tick, tock, tick, 

The hours they pass so quick! 
We know and always say 
Twenty-four hours make a day. 


Tick, tock, tick, 

The days are done so quick! 

Our Maker’s plan was best — 

Six days for work and one for rest. 


69 


Tick, tock, tick, 

The weeks glide by so quick! 

Four weeks a lunar month will make, 
Fifty-two a year will take. 


Tick, tock, tick, 

Time goes by so quick! 

We should learn and ever try 
To grow wiser by and by. 


70 


























































































A LIVE DOLLIE 


PjUR teacher asked us all to bring 
Something to give the poor, 
I’ve brought my dollies every one, 

I shall not want them more. 


We have a baby at our house, 

A real live doll — ’tis so! 

She softly breathes, and sleeps and eats, 
And Mamma says she’ll grow. 


She’s like the sunshine, soft and warm, 
My dolls are hard and cold ; 

Her eyes are blue, just like the skies, 
Her hair — it looks like gold. 


She came from heaven I heard them say, 
I know it must be true, 

She’s made us happier in our home 
And glad clear through and through. 


I think our home is nearest heaven, 

For she came right from there, 

Where hearts and hands were open wide 
To give her love and care. 


7 


She has forgotten how to talk, 
Can’t even tell her name, 

W e call her Baby darling now — 
She likes it all the same. 


I think she’s homesick when she cries, 
So I try in every way 
To help her get acquainted, then 
I know she’ll want to stay. 


And now I’ll leave my dolls for those 
Who never yet have known 
How nice a thing it is to have 
A baby in the home. 


72 


“POORHOUSE JIM 


TAEY say dat I am “Poorhouse Jim,” 

^ But I don’t fink it’s right, 

’Cause Mammy’s ole, an’ we is poor, 

An’ times is dark as night; 

I ain’t big ’nough ter make 
De wages what will bring 
Nice house, good home, nice clothes an’ all, 
In fac', nice eberyting. 


Folks all kin see my clothes is ole, 
De cabin poor enough, 

Mammy an’ me, we feels it’s hard, 
An’ fin’s de way is rough; 

We nebber steals, we does not lie, 
We tries ter do jes’ right, 

But somehow dar is times wid us 
Dat seems as dark as night. 

Daddy took sick, an’ den he died, 
Tings nebber was de same, 

An’ we grow’d poorer all de time, 
An’ now I has dat name, 

An’ in my froat dar comes a lump 
Jes’ when I want ter cry, 

But Mammy says I mus’ be brave, 
An’ so I’s goin’ ter try 


73 


More dan dat, l’s boun’ ter do, 

I’s growin’ ebery day, 

If work will bring no better times, 

Dis chile will fin’ de way; 

Mammy shall hab a nice silk gown, 
Nice house an' all, an’ I 
Will hab sich clothes that I won’t feel 
I eber want ter cry. 


Den folks won’t call me “Poorhouse Jim,” 
Nor nuffin dat is mean, 

Ter make me feel I want ter die 
An’ nebber more be seen; 

Dey’ll see dat I is smart an’ good, 

Jes’ as I means ter be, 

An’ den de worl’ will be all right 
For Mammy an’ for me. 


74 


BLIND MAN’S BUFF 


CING song, 

^ Come along, 

We’ll have a little fun; 

Blind man’s buff 
Is not too rough 
To give us chance to run, 

And chase each other round about, 
With eager hands stretched wildly out, 
To catch us here, 

Or catch us there; 

It makes us shout and laugh with glee, 
It’s such a funny sight to see. 


75 





































































































































































































































































































































































i a > i jin ■ ; 






* 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


0 002 546 732 2# 




mmi Bsiiisi 




* 

■ : m r-r-: ;f ? 






$§j . V. • : “Tv i* luT‘ : r svy ,r * iiiTHi 


. -. 


; ps: i; :;;* 

mrnkmmm 






ptfiftiSR ■ ^gag&a-j: 






t n"": 

: -J ••■ ••.• : ;h-r : -i 






V : -\V W ; 

•;-• • • -•;;»•.■ .• i ■ :;i:, riitr-.: .. $1 




<Yt AnnnUi 


■.v IS- 










tC7t*on^:u 




'• •’•• • ■-•:•. i “?-» i ‘Vi 5 * -2* f 






• i: SinUiiLl- . ‘ . -ill tX 1 -)E5t 

llli i T .pffiisi; I! 












;•- r.AiSSUwWVv-t ;v . ■•:: :f:Ii: *»J,. !•: -•;. '. • .S' ■?■& •■H:: !! - .•••:- - • • .wait 1 - - .til' -<•■? v ’• Hi '.- 


si tillllflt -life Ms 

-sailffli its - *M e;a £ \ , v 

iVIuvMtri SSMteMM 


si 


ii'Vv. 







